


Light Up Your Wildest Dreams

by JemTheKingOfSass



Category: The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon verse, Drowning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild spoilers for untranslated chapters, Nightmares, Other characters beyond WangXian only appear in a nightmare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-01 16:36:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17247671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JemTheKingOfSass/pseuds/JemTheKingOfSass
Summary: “I know, I know we said that Lan Zhan, but this is too much for you to want to wake up to. You were sleeping and I’ve disturbed you with silly, meaningless memories that aren’t important anymore. The revered HanGuang-Jun deserves his sleep.” Wei Wuxian tries to distance himself, pulling gently away from the arm snugly holding him in place. Instead of creating space, Lan Wangji shifts his body, sliding his hand up to cover Wei Wuxian’s heart, fingers splayed protectively over the essence of the man who shares his bed.“If they are important to you, they are important.”





	Light Up Your Wildest Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Do you ever begin writing something with the concept of where it will end up, but no real clue how it will meander its way there? That's this story. I chalk it up to Wei Wuxian POV - he took over and gave this his own flair, as he does. Also, I can't believe I've written a handful of other things for this fandom already and this is my first attempt at WWX inner voice.
> 
>  

 

 

* * *

 

 

Slithery black tendrils crawl up Wei Wuxian’s body, choking him, restraining him, holding him down on ground so filthy and cold he feels the grime coating his body and soul. He can’t breathe, he can’t move, but he battles anyway, pushing his body up, up, _up_ , pulling arms taut against the snaking brands of fire waging war against him, each one scorching his skin in its wake. 

He’s freezing, he’s burning, he’s nothing beyond a weeping, throbbing mass of excruciating pain -

Wei Wuxian has nothing left within him, yet the seething dark energy still bleeds him dry, sucking out any miniscule trace of joy left within him, and writhing against his aching mind. The fight slowly drains away, leaving nothing beyond a resentful, angry melancholy. He reaches down to a place he isn’t sure is anything beyond a reckless surge of idiocy, although what else does he have to lose? 

A gasping, scratchy scream tears from Wei Wuxian’s throat as the light stutters and explodes before his stunned vision, searing his eyes and blinding him. He shakes violently, realizing only after his mind eventually ceases its relentless buzzing that a warm, solid body supports him from behind, and long fingers card through his damp hair, deftly avoiding tangles and any reminder of pain. A strong arm encircles his waist and Wei Wuxian blinks down at it in disbelief as his chest gradually stops heaving and his heartbeats resume a steadier rhythm. 

“Lan Zhan,” rasps Wei Wuxian, voice still scraped raw from the depths of hell where he’d spent his sleeping state - instead of a restorative rest, he’d only managed to resuscitate the chaotic, vengeful desperation which he longs to leave behind except he _doesn’t know how_. “I’m sorry, I-”

The grip along his body tightens, and perhaps it would be imperceptible if Wei Wuxian’s nerves are not already heightened from distress. “Wei Ying. Do not apologize.”

“I know, I know we said that Lan Zhan, but this is too much for you to want to wake up to. You were sleeping and I’ve disturbed you with silly, meaningless memories that aren’t important anymore. The revered HanGuang-Jun deserves his sleep.” Wei Wuxian tries to distance himself, pulling gently away from the arm snugly holding him in place. Instead of creating space, Lan Wangji shifts his body, sliding his hand up to cover Wei Wuxian’s heart, fingers splayed protectively over the essence of the man who shares his bed. 

“If they are important to you, they are important.” 

Wei Wuxian pats the hand on his chest, yearning for nothing more than to clutch it forever, forcing it to ground him whenever his past life threatens to consume him from the inside out, though he is undeserving of the support. The nightmares rip through his mind nightly, never failing to collect their payment on debts incurred from the Yiling Patriarch. 

Wei Wuxian has earned this torment and somehow he will learn to bear it alone.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The ocean is dark, storm raging above and below as Wei Wuxian watches a man floating face down, drifting wherever the water carries him. His hair swirls around him in long, inky tresses, unbound and wild, sodden dull clothes weighing him down. A white ribbon adorned with delicate blue detail is held in his hand, crushed in an unrelenting grip, the only proof he still feebly clings to life. He is certain the man is the Yiling Patriarch, but is unsure how he hovers over himself, witnessing the scene outside his original body as an unwilling spectator. The man in the water is taller, broader, stronger - at times he still yearns to be housed in that more powerful, more capable shell. This weaker body has its limitations, no matter how fervently it is worshipped every day, loved from head to toe and every inch in between. 

Small in stature, yet convinced he is able to save any version of himself, Wei Wuxian reaches his slender arm down towards the turbulent water. No matter how desperately he tries, the Yiling Patriarch slips from his grasp, the ocean’s hold unrelenting and fierce, stubbornly clinging to its current victim. He stretches and shouts, panic building tightly within his chest as he fails and fails again to grab a hold of the dying man before him - he sees himself sinking and nothing he does makes any impact. 

The lightning raging around Wei Wuxian intensifies, a purple hue slashing the sky. The force of the whip against his back forces him down towards the surface of the water, the blow to his vain conviction more painful than the sting on his skin. He lurches into his former self, pushing himself underneath the vicious white peaks of the waves. 

“No!” Wei Wuxian howls, losing sight of himself as the Yiling Patriarch is sucked underneath the water, nothing except an honorless, shameful grave awaiting his fall. No one will ever locate him, regardless of how often, how passionately, they search. The Yiling Patriarch is gone from this realm - the sky around Wei Wuxian lightens in celebration, ocean calming into gently rolling undulations. The rain ceases its endless pouring around him, only pattering onto his face, running down his cheeks in steady rivulets-

A calloused thumb tenderly wipes underneath Wei Wuxian’s eye, before the softest lips, the only ones he’s ever had the pleasure and good fortune of partaking in, press against the delicate, damp skin left in its wake. A breath shudders out of Wei Wuxian as kisses work their way across his cheeks, removing every trace of tears through patient affection alone.

“Lan Zhan,” giggles Wei Wuxian when an insistent mouth tracks one teardrop to the underside of his chin, a tongue lapping it up before it can travel any further, leaving nothing but salty remnants behind. He clasps the broad shoulder in front of him, tugging him in closer, while one palm lays flat against a muscled chest, pushing the esteemed cultivator away. “Lan Zhan, I’ve woken you again haven’t I? It’s a wonder you still want to share a bed with me, hahaha. Maybe you should kick me out of the Jingshi tomorrow night so you can get all the sleep Lans require. Don’t look at me, Er-Gege.”

When Wei Wuxian chokes on his babbling words and lifts his hand to cover his face, Lan Wangji tugs his wrist away in order to kiss closed eyelids. When he finds the courage to peek at his companion, there is nothing except fondness and concern held in a golden gaze. 

“Wei Ying.” Said man sighs and opens his mouth to argue a point yet to be voiced, when Lan Wangji tips his head forward to occupy the overly talkative man a different way. He creatively uses his lips, his tongue, his soul to empty Wei Wuxian’s mind of doubts and objections to his own self-worth. A low, heady buzzing moves within him, spreading through his body and leaving an electric warmth behind, smooth and sweet like honey. 

There is a temporary armistice between his brain and his heart and his spirit - the slow-burning fire of Lan Wangji’s love enough to silence screaming insecurities in this quiet moment.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Just take it!” Chenqing is shoved into Wei Wuxian’s hand with irritated force, the air around him thick with distrust and hate.

“You kept this?” His eyes widen, surprise causing him to falter and stumble backwards a step. 

Jiang Cheng slaps something else against his chest, though he is not fast enough to react and Suibian clatters to the floor. A temple full of cultivators, all eyes boring into the scene unfolding in front of them. Distantly, as though through a fog, Wei Wuxian hears Jin Ling cackling about how useless his cutsleeve uncle is that he can’t even hold a powerful sword. He turns towards the sneering laughter, seeing the two Lan junior disciples flanking his nephew and words like “pathetic” and “disgraceful” assail his ears.

Lan Sizhui nods regally, eyebrow raised in mockery, his hand resting placatingly on Jin Ling’s shoulder. “At least HanGuang-Jun is a strong cultivator. It’s a shame he sides with the Yiling Patriarch but he will always be the Second Jade of Lan despite the company he keeps.”

Lan Jingyi snorts, an unattractive and twisted expression on his animated face. “For now. Eventually HanGuang-Jun will tire of him, protecting him, saving him, facing criticism because of him. Someday, he’ll realize he can do better than Wei Wuxian.”

Jiang Cheng strides over to where the youth are clustered. He claps a hand on Jin Ling’s other shoulder, before spinning on his heel and crossing his arms tightly against his chest, taking a wide stance protectively in front of the disciples, standing between them and Wei Wuxian. “Well, aren’t you going to pick up your sword?”

Wei Wuxian quakes, faltering in a room surrounded by animosity. His voice abandons him as he stares at his brother, blocking the path to his child, his _children_. He hangs his head in defeat, he’s so tired of fighting everything and everyone, pleas tumbling off his lips as easily as the tears threaten to spill from his blurry eyes. “A-Yuan, please-”

Two white boots appear in his vision, and when he lifts his head he gazes upon the gently smiling face of Lan Xichen, blood dripping off Shuoyue held loosely in his hand. “Pick up your sword, Young Master Wei. After all, Sect Leader Jiang brought it here just for you.”

“I told you, I can’t...it might as well be his now. He can unsheathe it, I don’t need it!” Wei Wuxian peers at his brother over the stately man before him, his ghastly frozen smile holding nothing but enmity. “Jiang Cheng, please, keep Suibian! I can come visit my old sword, it’s something to bring me back to Lotus Pier, a reason to return, to you and to my home!”

“Ha!” Jiang Cheng laughs, loud and cruel, venom lacing every breath he heaves through the weight of his loathing. “Your home is certainly not Lotus Pier, I don’t know if it ever was. Stay away.”

Lan Xichen bends down to retrieve the controversial spiritual weapon, turning it over in the hand not occupied by his own. “You disregard your loyal sword like you disregard my brother.”

“What? No! I love your brother. I’ll shout it from the rooftop for everyone to hear right this second.” A vivid desperation fills Wei Wuxian’s heart, clouding any prideful hesitation he might otherwise cling to. A visceral fear is the only thing pulsing through him, taking over the blood in his veins with every frantic, panicked heartbeat. He swivels his head in every direction, seeking out his beloved, the one who has never let him down in this new life, proving time and time again that Wei WuXian is no longer alone, left to battle real and imagined demons by himself. “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan! Where are you? I love you! I want to be your cultivation partner! Aren’t we already husbands? I may be a fool in many ways but I am very certain I love you with my whole being. Why are we here? Don’t we belong in the Cloud Recesses? Haven’t we traveled for months after committing to each other? Lan Zhan! Please!”

Wei Wuxian collapses to his knees when nothing but silence answers his confession, everyone calmly watching his fall. The floor is cold and unrelenting under his palms, he is short of breath, gasping for air and for his partner. Pristine white robes swing across his fingertips, a figure hovering in front of him - Wei Wuxian lowers his forehead to the ground in relief, clutching the hem of the cool, clean robes. The fabric is ripped away as the man before him crouches down to his level, slender fingers mockingly tipping up his chin. He meets an ice cold glare on a perpetually smiling face.

“You told him to get out, to get away from you. You tease him, lead him on, take advantage of his love. You are shameless, Wei Wuxian, my brother’s only mistake. Perhaps now he has finally corrected his error of judgment.” Lan Xichen’s smile is sinister and Wei Wuxian wants to cry. 

Jiang Cheng sweeps over to stand alongside the Lan Sect Leader, the junior disciples on his heels like loyal puppies, the mere thought enough to send a shiver down his trembling back. “Zewu-Jun is correct. You don’t deserve Lan Wangji. You told him to leave and he did.”

“He’s gone, _Uncle._ ”

“He’s not coming back for someone who abandons his child, _Father._ ”

“He’s left you, _Senior Wei._ ”

The creeping tentacles of resentful energy surge out of the temple floor, twining around Wei Wuxian’s legs, arms, their cold touch wrapping around every part of him, pinning him to the floor, leaving him strangled by their relentless pursuit of all the joy he had thought returned to his life. 

This isn’t right - his precious second chance cannot end like this.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian weeps, an icicle piercing his heart when there’s no response, just the silent glare of hundreds of eyes which see a crumbling and weak man no better than his mistakes, indiscretions, and failures. He is alone after all, abandoned by a pure and devoted love of which he has always been unworthy.

“Lan Zhan! Lan Zhan! Lan Zhan!” 

A firm grip rests on his shoulders, black fingers slipping further away from his body with every light shake. Wei Wuxian’s eyes flutter open, though he’s afraid of what he’ll see. He is surrounded by a dark curtain of hair, able to make out the gleam of a bright, damp gaze in the darkness of night within the temple. He peeks to the side, only to see the familiar furniture and walls of the Jingshi, safe within the confines of the Cloud Recesses. He’s sheltered in Gusu, and hovering above him protectively is Lan Wangji. 

A lone, warm tear lands on Wei Wuxian’s cheek, gradually sliding off his face and getting lost in the tangled pool of hair spilling around his head. “Wei Ying.”

“You’re here.” Wei Wuxian’s voice sounds small to his own ears, and as soon as it escapes his lips he hopes that it was quiet enough to go unheard by the man staring at him. A slight furrow appears between normally immovable eyebrows, unease settling across Lan Wangji’s pretty porcelain face. Wei Wuxian cups a cool cheek with one hand, using his other to smooth away the line marring his partner’s forehead. He chuckles as he rubs the pad of his finger across flawless skin, needing to escape from that dream, and melting into the other man sounds like a divine distraction. He rises up to nip at frowning lips, teasing with his teeth and his tongue, fingers shifting over to trace along the shell of a burning ear. Wei Wuxian lifts his hips, rubbing small circles against Lan Wangji’s thigh, dropping his eyelids and gazing up through his eyelashes. 

Lan Wangji’s face cracks as he grabs Wei Wuxian’s wrist, halting his movements. He senses the tremble of his partner’s mouth with his own, before the normally composed man pulls away. “Wei Ying. I am here. Do not hide.”

Wei Wuxian stops blinking in a hopeless attempt of staving off tears, unsure what to do with Lan Wangji’s direct and simple request. He doesn’t want to think about it - his weakness and doubt. “I’m not hiding, I just want my partner satisfied any way he wants. Lan Zhan, how do you want me? I am very bendy, I wonder if I stretch right, if I can-”

“Wei Ying!” Lan Wangji huffs, raising his voice in a rare display of heated impatience. He grasps the ankle behind his neck and softly sets it back on the bed, slowly running his hand up the length of Wei Wuxian’s body, stopping once he reaches his chest. He slips a hand inside the thin sleeping clothes, palm splayed flat against pale, bare skin stretched taut over a wildly thumping heart. “You called for me. Even when I am right here and you are trapped in your head, you called over and over again. You-”

Lan Wangji takes a moment to settle himself, agitation clear in his voice. He presses his forehead against Wei Wuxian’s, their eyes locked onto one another, faces mere breaths apart. 

“Lan Zhan. It was just a nightmare, nothing more. I call for you because I love you.” Wei Wuxian folds his hand over Lan Wangji’s, bearing down, reveling in the pressure against his chest - his heart supported and cherished. 

He is met with a shake of the head and a solemn, stubborn glare. “Dreams are important. They give us insight into our longing and our fear.”

Wei Wuxian chuckles, lifting his chin to place a feather-light kiss on Lan Wangji’s lips, who deepens it with an urgency and yearning that has been missing from their bed, replaced by comfort and ease and a surety of what lies behind every press of fingers and every impassioned caress. Wei Wuxian draws back, frantically reading the man hovering above him. “What were you dreaming, Er-Gege? Tell me and I’ll tell you mine, okay? What do you long for, what do you fear, Lan Zhan?”

“I long for you, I fear for you,” murmurs Lan Wangji, fingers digging into Wei Wuxian’s skin. 

“Ah, it can’t all be me, Lan Er-Gongzi. I want to hear your _dreams._ The things that light you up from the inside, making your spirit take flight when it cannot be contained on the earth any longer, and the things that bring you crashing back down to reality.” Wei Wuxian pauses in realization that he does not know what his partner will say. If dreams are truly a window into the soul, then he wants to understand every facet of Lan Wangji’s subconscious thoughts. “Share your fantasies and aspirations with me, Lan Zhan.”

Lan Wangji gives him a long, steady look before one dip of his head that he then gracefully drops onto his partner’s shoulder. Wei Wuxian watches the gradual rise of a rosy blush along the other’s man ears, the corner of translucent papers dipped in jewel-toned wine, color bleeding like the slow unfurling of flower petals in the spring. He rubs Lan Wangji’s back, soothing him, though he is the one still reeling - he will deal with that on his own time. He needs to hear Lan Wangji’s private dreams, as they surely carry more import. 

“It was you, Wei Ying.” The words spoken are hardly more than a whisper, but Wei Wuxian feels the vibrations against his chest, the warm exhale on his skin, the brush of lips at each voiced thought. He combs through the silky hair draped over his body, minding his tongue, using his fingers to encourage the taciturn man. “It is always you.”

Wei Wuxian smells the time passing as the incense burns down. He waits patiently for more, sensing his own distress lessen the longer he holds Lan Wangji in his arms, petting him, feeling the weight of him force the ugly, barbed thoughts to seep out of his mind and heart. If his nightmares leave him adrift in a sea of fearful and warped memories, Lan Wangji is the steady pull of the tide drawing him back to shore, where his mind is sharper, now allowed to thrive in the daylight. The former Yiling Patriarch doesn’t ever want to forget, yet he craves the ability to move forward as himself without being mired in the past. 

“What’s always me, Er-Gege?”

Lan Wangji hums against his shoulder before raising his head, the sound traveling straight through Wei Wuxian’s body. “Everything.” 

Wei Wuxian snaps open his eyes to meet Lan Wangji’s hot and molten gaze, gleaming in the low light of the Jingshi. His chest is suddenly too small to contain the mess surging up within him, threatening to spill over and soil anything in its reach. “Everything?”

“You in red and gold, bathed in sunlight. Your hair wild and unbound, flowing around you like this.” Lan Wangji caresses a lock of hair, tugging it over Wei Wuxian’s shoulder, unruly waves mingling with his own straight silk. He starts to shake his head, sure his hair is a mess of snarls, but Lan Wangji grasps his jaw, halting the motion. He kisses Wei Wuxian once, light and chaste, an affirmation that strikes his core. “Exactly like this, dripping around you as you bowed to the Heavens and to the Earth.”

All the air escapes Wei Wuxian’s body in one rush, as he collapses further backwards into the pillows, Lan Wangji moving with him, tenderly shifting his cool, dry hand up to cup a flushed, damp cheek. “HanGuang-Jun, do you know what you’re dreaming? Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan, I...”

“Wei Ying, I know what these dreams are. I have them every night. We are already cultivation partners, already husbands.” Lan Wangji strokes his thumb along Wei Wuxian’s cheek, fingers trailing over his jaw.

“I know, I know, but what you’re dreaming is too much.” Wei Wuxian mumbles, gripping the other man’s unrelenting shoulders hard enough to leave ten long, finger-shaped bruises on previously smooth, unmarked skin, flesh somehow spared by the discipline whip. He is intimately familiar with the permanent welts elsewhere on Lan Wangji's body - scars caused by Wei Wuxian's ego. “ _I’m_ too much.”

“Never. Wei Ying is everything and exactly enough.” Lan Wangji devours Wei Wuxian’s mouth with more passion, more force, clearly attempting to push his confidence into his unusually reticent, self-conscious partner. Usually Wei Wuxian longs for more, except for the first time in this crystal clear moment, he wishes for less - less doubt, less guilt, less remorse, less hubris. Wet regret fills his eyes, spills down his cheeks, and paints their joined lips in a mockery of his partner’s faith in him. 

“Enough,” whispers Wei Wuxian, lips trembling under the pressure of what Lan Wangji pours into him, as he pulls away.

“Always enough.” Light kisses pepper his forehead, temples, eyelids, the tip of his nose. “After the first prostration, you bowed to my mother and father, both alive, supportive, overjoyed. They were proud of me, proud of you.”

“Lan Zhan. I’m sor-” A finger graces Wei Wuxian’s lips, silencing him before he can utter the forbidden word. 

Lan Wangji frowns slightly, gold eyes boring into grey. “Never. Not between us.”

“Okay, okay, Lan Zhan. I remember, I do. No apologies.” Wei Wuxian beams through the tears still coursing over his skin, so deeply in love with the Second Jade of Lan it could crush him to nothing more than dust with its power. “Did we bow to each other next? I want that! I want everything with you. I’ll bow to you every day if that’s what you desire, Er-Gege. Would you like that, Lan Zhan?”

Lan Wangji blinks down at him, tracing the shape of Wei Wuxian’s mouth with his finger as the words babble out of it. “We did not.”

“What!” Wei Wuxian laughs. “Then tell me, what came next in this dream of yours?”

“Mm.” Lan Wangji agrees, expression softening as he recalls his dreams with a sincere fondness Wei Wuxian is desperate to earn, to keep, to clutch close to his breast where nothing can possibly pry it away. “You bowed to Zewu-Jun and he accepted it, accepted you. Then I bowed to your parents, all four of them, all of them deserving of the honor.”

“Lan Zhan, you’re too good to me, I don’t-” Again, Wei Wuxian is silenced by one deft finger, his eyebrows rising in defiance. 

“I am not.” Lan Wangji’s lips lift slightly, a face reserved for Wei Wuxian’s eyes alone. “I am as good as you deserve. Do you wish to hear the rest of my dream?”

Wei Wuxian nods, eyes wide, watching and listening to his partner with rapt attention. 

“After bowing to the Heavens and the Earth, after bowing to all of our parents, followed by both of our brothers, only then did we turn towards one another. You were glowing. I held your hands and stepped closer to you. I wanted to be a part of your radiance, your light.” Lan Wangji stops to breathe and collect himself. He closes his eyes, and Wei Wuxian immediately misses the gold worth more to him than any precious metal. He nuzzles into Lan Wangji, nosing insistently at a pale cheek until the other man’s eyes open again. “We bowed to each other, as husband and wife. As husbands.”

“I'll be anything as long as I get to be with you,” coos Wei Wuxian, smoothing his hands over Lan Wangji's black tresses. “Call me your wife or your husband or your soulmate or whatsoever comes into your mind, I won't care. I just want to be yours.”

“Mine. Always. Yours.” More coherent speech clearly escapes the Second Jade, who hovers expectantly over Wei Wuxian, appearing ready to be finished with the conversational part of their early morning. His chest heaves with shallow breaths, as he gazes down with a half-lidded stare, running his hands purposefully down Wei Wuxian's torso.

Wei Wuxian arches up into the touch, sighing with the pleasure of a promising touch, and fingers as familiar with his body as the beloved guqin. He slides his arms up, fisting his hands in Lan Wangji's hair, earning a strained grunt in response. He raises his upper body off the bed, his mouth skimming the overheated skin of his partner's ear. “I promised I'd tell you mine.”

“Mm.” Lan Wangji grinds his hips down into Wei Wuxian, who lifts his up in response. “Do you wish to tell me? I will not force you.”

“They aren't important any longer, I swear. It's just a muddle of untruths and twisted memories that I don't even believe, not really. If I explain them, it'll hurt you and you'll try and convince me they aren't real, but Lan Er-Gege I am already certain they're false. You show me every day, throughout each day, how very much I mean to you, how much you love me, how far you'll go for me.” Wei Wuxian wiggles himself free and sits up, clutching at Lan Wangji's strong and unrelenting upper arms. 

“My nightmares aren't important, I'll get over them. I will. I think every night I spend with you, with my cultivation partner, with my husband, makes things better, healthier. Maybe these are just things I need to work through, and it's only now that I've got someone by my side who will never let me fall, only now can I heal from all the guilt and horror and loneliness. I don't know what I'm saying, hahaha.” Wei Wuxian attempts to chuckle past the burgeoning emotion, afraid of clipping this thread before he finishes telling Lan Wangji how important he is, how special he is, how much he deserves for his goodness. “You deserve the world, Lan Zhan, and I want to be the person who gives it to you. If I'm who you crave in your innermost heart, then I'm going to be the best partner and husband you could imagine. If what you want is a wedding, then I'll marry you again, and bow to whomever necessary to satisfy the GusuLan clan. I want that too, I want to be yours, Lan Zhan.” 

Lan Wangji's eyes are glittering as he listens fervently to Wei Wuxian’s stream of consciousness. His hands have tightened his robes into bunches, gripping them in a bid for composure. “All I want is Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian scoffs, shaking his head. “Really, HanGuang-Jun.”

“All I want is Wei Ying happy.” Lan Wangji kneels astride Wei Wuxian's lap, cupping his face with nothing but tenderness. “If you are not, I’ll do anything to make you become so.”

Wei Wuxian laughs, sliding down the bed until he's flat on his back, tugging Lan Wangji down until he's flush against him. With a twist of his hips, a steady grip, and the element of surprise, he flips them over, reversing their positions. Crossing his arms on his partner's chest, Wei Wuxian smirks down at Lan Wangji, feeling frisky and playful and as though the weight off all his past transgressions is starting to lift off his back. He feels so light, so free, he practically purrs. “I _am_ happy. All I want is _you_ happy! Are you happy, Lan Er-Gongzi?”

“Mm,” murmurs Lan Wangji, surging forwards with pursed lips, finding his mouth with efficiency and purpose. He pushes up into Wei Wuxian, nibbling at his bottom lip, soothing over it with his tongue, kissing him as though their shared passion is the only thing required to sustain him. They connect again and again, blindly caressing any skin they can find, only stopping briefly for air and to worship one another with their eyes, before joining back together with magnetic precision. Fingers fumble with fabric, grazing hot and sweat-dampened flesh as soon as they find their way under inner robes. Mouths still fused together, their hands skim lower, gliding towards one another's most intimate places. Matching each other’s panting moans and rushed strokes, they swiftly bring themselves to a heady mutual release of tension and pleasure. 

Gasping into Lan Wangji's mouth, Wei Wuxian rests his damp forehead against his partner's equally slick skin. “See, Er-Gege? We’re obviously both quite happy.”

Lan Wangji snorts quietly, and Wei Wuxian almost misses the undignified sound. 

“In my craziest adolescent fantasies, I never thought I'd be imagining a Lan wedding while cozy in the arms of one of their most prestigious cultivators.” Wei Wuxian combs his fingers through Lan Wangji's mildly disheveled hair while he snickers over long-lost teenage thoughts. 

“Do not think about a wedding yet.” Lan Wangji rolls over, slipping out from underneath Wei Wuxian, who scrambles to follow when the other man rises from the bed. 

“Where are you going? Lan Zhan, we can clean up later! Let's cuddle for awhile before we need to wake up. Lan Zhan wait!”

Lan Wangji smiles softly at him, before he drops to his knees before a sprawling Wei Wuxian. “Wei Ying.”

“Lan Zhan?” Mind whirring to connect the dots, sensing he has been left behind somewhere, he watches the gorgeous array of expressions play on his partner's typically controlled face. 

“Wei Ying, I do not wish to wait any longer to kneel before you. I want to be married to you. Will you agree to marry me again, Wei Ying?” Lan Wangji's fingers dig into his thighs, which makes Wei Wuxian burst out laughing, as he grabs for the other man's hands. 

“Oh Lan Zhan! I will marry you again, a real wedding, of course I will! I am not teasing you, you just look so nervous! Don't be nervous, I'll marry you a dozen times over and I don't even have to think about it. I will marry you in this life and then the next one and the one after that. If we reach immortality together, even me with this weak body, we can wed one another as often as we like! Every decade, every year, always, forever. Lan Zhan, oh my precious Lan Zhan. I love you, today, tomorrow, every day.” Wei Wuxian holds up his hand, snickering, a bright smile stretching his mouth, unable to be dimmed even if he tried. “Not _that_ every day, Er-Gege.”

“Your core will strengthen. I will help you strengthen it.” Lan Wangji looks so solemn and dutiful, Wei Wuxian’s heart clenches and swells uncontrollably, pounding out a rhythm which sustains life, yet beats with new purpose.

“I’m honored to be your partner, Lan Zhan, in every way you wish to be with me.” Wei Wuxian shakes his head, astounded at the unexpected turn this too-early morning has taken, one of their many days together which begins drenched in nightmares, and is then soothed with patient adoration. He is simultaneously proud, humbled, and beyond overjoyed to live out his years in this man's presence - loved, accepted, embraced. Lan Wangji is beautiful in every way. “I tell you though, I wouldn’t have dared to want this, never ever in my wildest dreams.”

Lan Wangji lifts their clasped hands, first kissing one of Wei Wuxian's palms, then the other one. “Light up your wildest dreams, Wei Ying. We will make sure they all come true, even the ones you do not know you are dreaming yet.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Each and every one of us deserve a Lan Wangji in our lives. What a blessing this man is.


End file.
